


Fool

by juunnyy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: I don't know what else to tag, M/M, Rimming, Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, a whole lotta gay, arses???, bum???, cock???, errrrr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:25:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juunnyy/pseuds/juunnyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moriarty falls in love; Sherlock's pretending to love him back. Then he was going to break him. It seemed like the perfect revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fool

_It’s killing me._

John’s eyes said it all; watching as Sherlock put on his best suit, tamed his hair and threw his coat over his shoulders. The tall man stood in front of him, raising one hand to his cheek; his mouth full of unspoken apologies.

Sherlock leaned down to press a soft kiss on his lips; as satisfying as it was, there was no denying the lack of passion.

Soon enough, John was left standing alone in the middle of the living room, staring at the closed door, with an a pain in his head and an ache in his heart.

-

“I love you so much,” Moriarty whispered sensually in Sherlock’s ear before his lips grazed over the arch of his shoulder and down towards the dip in his back. His hands were cold as they stroked his sides, feeling the silky texture of Sherlock’s pale skin, sending cold shivers up his body, which Moriarty mistook as shivers of ecstasy.

Moriarty took care of him; nurtured as if he was a beloved pet, under the belief that he had finally grasped the heart of his most treasured prize.

“I love you too,” Sherlock replied faintly, with the image of another man’s face engraved in his mind.

The feeling of Moriarty’s warm tongue tracing a line down his back was not unfamiliar, yet it made him tense all the same. When it finally reached the crevice between his buttocks, he closed his eyes tightly; desperate to focus on anything other than the sensation but knowing that he needed to make Moriarty believe he was enjoying it prevented him from doing so. Instead, he imagined it was John. In his mind, the tongue that was sliding gently over his hole belonged to John, the hands pulling his cheeks apart were John’s, and so were the deep groans of admiration.

It was time to play up to it; it wasn’t hard to fool Moriarty when he was so intently cherishing his body. Sherlock pushed the pervading guilt to the back of his mind and spread his legs wider, lifting himself slightly off the mattress and pushing his buttocks out and earning a grunt of appreciation from the criminal. His hips rocked slowly in time with every flick of Moriarty’s tongue, forcing himself to moan like a whore and whimpering when, for a few seconds, the tongue had pulled away.

“Beautiful,” Moriarty purred, hastily pressed his tongue back to the wet hole.

After another minute had passed, Sherlock felt a finger press tenderly against the pink flesh and then slowly push inside. It felt satisfying, there was no denying it; and no matter how much he tried to pretend all of the moans that escaped his lips weren’t genuine, he knew it wasn’t the truth. The second finger pushed itself in, along with the third soon after. It burned slightly but he tried to concentrate on the pleasure, knowing it would all be worth it in the end. When Moriarty rubbed his fingers against his prostate, he cried out.

“Right there,” Sherlock gasped, “You make me feel so good,” He reached back and grabbed Moriarty’s hand, threading their fingers tightly together.

“I’d wanted you for so long, I can’t believe how lucky I am,” Moriarty breathed heavily, placing his lips against Sherlock’s backside and kissing the skin softly as he moved his fingers in and out of him.

“I want you in me,” Sherlock blurted out, stuck between wanting to embrace the feelings and wanting it to be over and done with as soon as possible so he could get back to John. He felt like a whore, using his body to get to someone.

Moriarty grinned in excitement.

“Someone’s eager,” He teased, “I always knew I’d be the one who’d have you like this, we were made for each other,”

He withdrew his fingers and the familiar sound of lubricant on skin compelled Sherlock to try loosening the tenseness in his body.

Moriarty made sure Sherlock was ready before pushing himself into his prepared hole, gently, taking great care with his precious boyfriend. Soon, Moriarty had filled Sherlock to the brim; a feeling that wasn’t wholly new to him.

Sherlock didn’t think that it would actually go this far. His initial plan was to fool Moriarty into thinking he was in love with him, and then he’d break him, piece by piece. Moriarty would be the one to fall this time; he would fall in love with Sherlock. Then Sherlock would leave him broken; his heart bleeding out. He’d crush Moriarty as revenge for all the lives he’d taken, and for forcing him to break John’s heart by committing suicide right in front of his eyes.

But the hard part was finding the cut-off point. Moriarty had fallen so deep for him, he was utterly obsessed with Sherlock and Sherlock had become obsessed with the idea of it, wondering how far he could pull him in, craving the need to cause maximum damage to the criminal’s heart.

However, he only intended to flirt with him, and maybe share a few kisses every now and then. He certainly didn’t expect to spend every other day sprawled out on a bed with Moriarty balls-deep inside him.

“Turn over,” Moriarty grunted, his lips red and swollen from biting them.

Sherlock obliged, flipping himself over so he was lying on his back. He knew what to do. Grabbing the back of his thighs, he pulled his legs up and spread them so Moriarty had full access. Now he really would have act, he couldn’t hide his face anymore.

He gasped loudly as the criminal pushed his erection back inside of him. He furrowed his eyebrows and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, convincing Moriarty that he was completely there and in the moment. He could see the lustful desire in his dark, piercing eyes, but he also saw a glint of adoration. The strong hands that had been placed on his shoulders had soon moved up to his cheeks; Moriarty had Sherlock’s face in his hands and had begun to kiss him passionately. It felt so needy, it wasn’t as tender as usual; it was as if Moriarty was scared he would disappear any second.

“I love you,” Moriarty repeated numerous times through the kissing. There was wetness on Sherlock’s cheeks, as if he’d been crying; it only took him a few more seconds before he realised that it wasn’t _him_ that was crying.

Sherlock felt a hand wrapping itself around his erection, bringing him back to reality and preventing his mind from wandering any further.

The orgasm was intense; Sherlock even let himself believe it was one of the best he’d ever experienced. With one last loud grunt, Moriarty climaxed inside of him.

They lay against each other, their bodied lined with sweat, trying to catch their breath.

After a few minutes of nothing, Moriarty pulled out of Sherlock and repositioned himself next to him. Sherlock laid the opposite way, but when the criminal curled up against him from behind; he felt something odd and unexpected.

Moriarty had well and truly fallen for Sherlock; Sherlock was afraid he may have been dragged down with him.

-

“I nearly assumed you’d left for good,” John spoke as Sherlock walked through the door the next morning. The familiar feeling of home brought him comfort. John was sat in his chair with his eyes fixed on the paper in his hands.

_I’m sorry._

_I love you._

_Please forgive me._

Sherlock strode straight over to John’s chair and sunk to his knees, taking the newspaper out his hands. John looked surprised for a second, until it softened into a look of affection. Sherlock pulled him in and hugged him tightly.

He sunk into the feeling of John’s fingers threading through his hair. After a minute of embracing each other, Sherlock pulled away slightly and then planted a deep kiss on John’s lips.

“I’ll do it one day, I promise,” Sherlock insisted, “I’ll destroy him,”


End file.
